


A Change of Scene

by ilyena_sylph, Merfilly



Series: Daughter of Gotham [7]
Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-13
Updated: 2014-05-13
Packaged: 2018-01-24 14:40:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1608803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilyena_sylph/pseuds/ilyena_sylph, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merfilly/pseuds/Merfilly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harvey's big case is here, and fate awaits him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Change of Scene

It was a minor murder case. The only thing that made it significant was the fact Dent had gotten Maroni to turn on one of his own, to make a bigger case against Falcone.

Jim Gordon had helped bring in the suspect, had done every single thing by the book, giving Dent the kind of case that was absolutely ironclad.

It was just a minor murder case, and yet Jim Gordon's stomach tied in knots as it unfolded. It was too smooth, and he could all but hear his first Gotham partner's words in his ears.

_"Things in this town only run smooth when they're in that handbasket to hell, Gordon. Don't forget that, and you might live to pick up your shiny gold watch at the end."_

Later, he'd know he'd been too far away. Later, he'd realize that the plan had been flawless. Later, he might be able to let go of the blame he felt as he failed to reach the attacker in time to do more than knock his aim slightly off.

Now, Jim Gordon could only remember the screaming as acid met flesh, and Harvey Dent collapsed in court amidst the chaos.

* * *

Alfred was not just there to pick Ashlea up but actually meet her at the disembarkation point as she returned from Japan. The trip had been unavoidable, and yet she really had hated failing to support Harvey.

"Alfred?" she asked, tired from the there and back again jet lag.

"There has been an incident with Master Harvey," Alfred said gently. "He is in the hospital."

Ashlea's blood went cold. Again? 

"Take me to him," she demanded. He was one of her very few friends, all the way back to childhood, and knowing that he was -- yet again -- hurt and she'd been distracted by business when it happened was not setting well with her.

"Of course, Miss Ashlea."

* * *

The first they knew of anything being wrong was when the elevators and stairwells had guards at them. Ashlea's nerves tingled as they approached one of the security guards at an elevator.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, sir… hospital is having a bit of a lockdown on the upper floors," the guard began, trying to be polite. "If this is an emergency, please use those doors to enter," she added.

"No, it's not. But thank you," Ashlea told her. She walked on, with Alfred, and back out to their car. She looked around… unmarked car there, two police cruisers, and when she looked skyward, there was a helicopter that did not have the medical flashers on the tail.

"Do you think there has been a new attempt on Master Harvey's life, Miss Ashlea?" Alfred asked.

"I don't know. Take me over to my apartment, please, Alfred? I think I need something from there."

"Of course," he told her, driving away at a reasonable speed for the area.

* * *

The Batman moved slower than normal, as the day was not yet over. Too bright for the usual swing-lines to get from one building to another, but at this part of the city, the buildings were close enough for simple parkour runs and falls.

Still, the police had not yet left the vicinity of the hospital when Batman used an entry point on one of the lower additions, avoiding notice by the helicopter by staying close to the walls. The cape was tucked back and secured, allowing a better chance to avoid notice as she moved. Long gone days of playing in these back corridors offered her a way to move, mostly without seeing others, and plenty of opportunity to hide in closets and sink-rooms when threatened.

Eventually, she made it to the floor Harvey would have been on, and deployed simple sound capture devices.

"...poor kid will be scarred, if she makes it."

"...idea why he ran?"

"...won't last on the streets. All the mob will be…"

"...surgeon was lucky Dent missed him and only got the nurse."

"...guess there goes his career…"

"And probably his life."

What the Batman was hearing was building up to an ugly picture. Ashlea moved one of the devices to focus on the police officer patrolling this hall, listening for the police channel on the walkie. It did not take long to confirm that the suspect //Harvey!// was thought to be out of the hospital by now, and the security was just in case he doubled back.

That was enough for Ashlea to retrace her own steps, getting out of the hospital. She had a hunt to attend to, one that her best friend's life might just hinge upon.

* * *

The dank smell of old, wet stone surrounded them as they pondered their next step. Justice still awaited, but how could they help that fight now? There would have to be plans, double check them all, and not let a tiny detail escape them. They had each other, could trust each other fully, and that was more than either could say for former allies.

One hand flipped a coin, over and over. It was a piece of the key, something to drag down those who fouled the city with their bloodlust and greed. All they had to do was agree on how to handle each choice.

Maroni, Falcone, and all their little players and henchmen, would fall to Justice. They could make it happen. They would make it happen.

No more media circus, no more trumped up charges, no more bribes. They were done with that side of Justice, because it was a false face.

They looked into the mirror they had secured on the wall down here, this sanctuary from their childhood. Two faces looked back, even as the coin continued to flip, over and over, never falling, never still.

"We'll bring them to their knees, Harvey, you'll see," one said.

"Justice, Harve, has an edge now," the other answered.

In the mirror, one half of a face showed to be smooth and only faintly puckered around the edges by the trauma of the other half. Two faces, one man, and all the dedication of ego and drive merged in a chaotic maelstrom the Mafia would soon learn to fear.


End file.
